


Andante, Andante

by MissBianca



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Lesbian AU, Light Dom/sub, Romance, Shameless Smut, cisgirls au, the girls are very in love and domestic and happy in their little apartment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 22:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBianca/pseuds/MissBianca
Summary: Pearl told Violet that she loved her every day, and Violet had struggled to understand or believe it for the longest time. But when Pearl was like this, it was as if she was showing Violet instead of telling her, with every adoring gesture. And somehow, feeling it always made her give in, surrender to being loved and let herself be safely, utterly wrapped up in sensations, in emotions, in Pearl.





	Andante, Andante

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rbcch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rbcch/gifts).



> So this is a belated birthday gift for my babi, Becks. I promised to write her Pearlet, and even though it took me longer than it should've to figure out the right concept or get it all out, I loved every single moment of it. I'm so very happy I get to share it with the world now, but even more happy that I finally get to share it with her. So happy birthday, angel. I love you.
> 
> I'm also going to include warnings for two brief uses of 'daddy' and for (relatively) light masochism (this one probably isn't what you think). Despite that, most of this fic is very soft. 
> 
> Please tell me what you think, leave a comment! You can find me on tumblr @mizkameron, and this fic will also be posted on artificialqueens in the next couple of days.

The sun had nearly set by the time Violet finally emerged from the subway, and she cursed her boss for keeping her on so late working on next month’s avant garde spread. She hurried down the sidewalk, quick little steps in her heels and pencil skirt, gritting her teeth as the long hours spent on her feet finally started to wear on her. 

Nonetheless, she carried on, picking up her pace and pushing the discomfort to the back of her mind with all of the other unimportant subjects. Pearl was home, had been for a couple hours now, and Violet’s chest grew tighter with every step, breathless with missing her. 

She had been gone when Violet had woken in the morning, as she always was, her pillow cold and only the faint lavender scent left from her shampoo to keep Violet company. On the best days, she woke with the faint memory of Pearl’s lips pressed sweetly to her temple or her forehead, and of the gentle instinctive swipe of her thumb over the skin after, just in case her lipstick had smudged. 

Of course, the days that were truly the best were those when Pearl didn’t go to work at all. But Violet kept that thought in the back of her mind, too, chastised herself for her selfishness whenever it emerged. 

It was her fault Pearl had to work hours like this, anyway - she was the reason Pearl had chosen Pratt in New York rather than another school in a place where living was actually affordable. She reminded herself, as always, that it would all pay off when she got the permanent position, when she could climb the ranks as quickly as possible until Pearl never had to work again.

The final stretch to their building was always the hardest, Violet’s back sore and a headache forming at the base of her skull from having her hair up and pinned from eight AM till five pm - or six, seven, even eight. She hadn’t been able to tell Pearl she’d be late until she already was, and the simple response saying not to worry about it left Violet with even more guilt in the pit of her stomach. 

But she was almost home now, walking down the hall to their front door, and hopefully soon, she’d be wrapped in Pearl’s arms, and the cold settled deep in her bones would melt away, and none of it would matter.

Violet didn’t have a coat to take off, as it was only October and her blazer was enough, but as soon as she stepped over the threshold and into the small apartment, it was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders anyway. She closed the door behind her carefully, and let out a long sigh as she looked around the apartment, letting herself adjust to the comforting surroundings. 

There was the secondhand couch on her left, worn sage green cushions and strewn pillows, in front of the ancient television that only picked up local channels. There was the kitchen door, ajar in the wall to her right, warm light spilling out and the soft sounds of Pearl’s breathing from inside.  

There was Pearl’s linocut print of the River Thames on the wall just beside her, the one Pearl had sketched herself and then carved into the linoleum so painstakingly in those first months they’d spent together. Violet thought she’d started to fall then, in their old university’s art studio, watching the determined lines in Pearl’s brow, the focus in her eyes as those careful hands of hers worked. She’d left fingerprint marks on Violet’s waist when she finally finished the project, smudges of dark ink, and Violet had wanted recklessly to tattoo them onto her skin, physical evidence of the permanent impressions Pearl seemed to leave every time she touched her.  

There were Pearl’s black boots on the dark wooden floor, the leather faded from years of use. Violet crouched beside them as she unbuckled the ankle straps on her own heels, methodically counting the times the laces crossed over the worn tongue out of habit. 

As she stood again, stepping out of her shoes, Violet heard scraping from the kitchen, the quiet squeak of a chair. 

“Baby?” Pearl’s voice drifted out into the living room. 

Violet’s eyes fluttered shut, the familiar swooping feeling in her chest, and she smiled for what felt like the first time all day. 

“Out here, love,” she replied after she gathered herself, but Pearl was already stepping out of the kitchen. 

The smile on Pearl’s face matched her own, and Violet didn’t have the time to process anything else before she was swept into a hug, letting out a gasp as Pearl’s arms looped around her waist to pull her close. She wound her own arms around Pearl’s neck instinctively, holding onto her tightly and forcing their bodies even closer together, smile widening as Pearl chuckled. 

She ducked her head and tucked her nose into the soft skin below Pearl’s ear almost shyly, wondering if the other woman could feel her heart pounding under the hand that was rubbing slowly over her back. 

“You didn’t say hello,” Pearl murmured, pulling back just enough to look at her. 

“You didn’t hear me come in,” Violet returned, eyebrow arching. 

“Well, I was working on an assignment,” Pearl said, her hands flattening against Violet’s back as she leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek. 

“And I was… settling,” Violet said, and Pearl bumped their noses together playfully, making her let out a laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

“You  _ love _ me.” Pearl’s tone was lilting, teasing, and she rocked the two of them from side to side gently, pressing their foreheads together. 

Violet’s throat was too full to speak, but there wasn’t any reason to. She laced her fingers in Pearl’s long hair, closed her eyes, and let her rock them, almost like dancing. The tension started to dissipate from her body like water evaporating in the sun, leaving her hot and cool all at the same time. 

She’d been soothed back into a comfortable warmth by the time Pearl let out a sigh and pulled back to meet her eyes once more. It was a marvel, how her body still reacted like this to seeing her girlfriend, every single time - the fluttering in her stomach, the helpless smile that made her cheeks hurt, the rush in her chest before her heart took off like a racehorse.

Tracing circles on the back of Pearl’s neck with her thumb, Violet examined her face, re-memorizing all of the features she already knew by heart. Pearl had taken off her makeup, and she was effortlessly lovely in that way that made Violet’s chest constrict, made her want to rub up against Pearl and wrap around her like a cat. 

After a few moments, Violet noticed how the dark circles under Pearl’s eyes were particularly prominent today. There was a profound tiredness in Pearl’s brow, too, contrasting with the affectionate tilt to her lips as she looked Violet over in return. Violet childishly wished she could wipe it all away, kiss it better and cover it up with a band-aid so it would stop aching so much. 

“I’m sorry,” Violet exhaled, pursing her lips, not even sure what she was apologizing for.

“Mmmm?” Pearl hummed, gaze meeting Violet’s confusedly.

Violet searched for an explanation, shuffling through the dozens of things that made her want to apologize to Pearl on a daily basis for something that wouldn’t make her girlfriend scoff. Apologies for being selfish with Pearl, for not making her go to sleep early when she had to wake at five the next day to go to work before going to class. Apologies for burning the food or herself whenever she tried to cook, for leaving even more work for Pearl to do when she already did so much. Apologies for starting her career with an internship that paid so little, one that couldn’t possibly cover rent for an apartment for two in New York City. 

“For not telling you I’d be late,” Violet said finally, choosing the simplest option. 

Pearl scoffed anyway, shook her head and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to Violet’s lips.

“Not your fault,” she said, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “You’re back in time for me to enjoy you, at least for awhile, and that’s good enough for me.”

“I love you,” Violet replied immediately, the words spilling out before she even thought them through. She bit her lower lip and looked down, cheeks growing warm.  

“I know,” Pearl informed her amusedly. “You’re blushing.”

Having no response to that, Violet leaned in to kiss Pearl’s smile briefly.  

“Go take off your makeup before I kiss you like I want to and it gets all over both of us,” Pearl murmured, patting her ass and pecking her lips once more before releasing her. 

“Yes, sir,” Violet said with fake seriousness, batting her lashes at Pearl flirtatiously before turning around and heading towards the bedroom. 

“I’ll heat up the leftovers from last night,” Pearl said. 

“The stir fry?”

“That’s the one,” Pearl confirmed. “Oh, and Vi?”

“Hmm?” Violet looked over her shoulder.

“I love you too, bitch.” 

Pearl made a kissy face at her, and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Violet blushing faintly and rolling her eyes in the hallway with one hand on the doorknob. 

She stepped into the bedroom, and immediately shed her navy blazer, laying it neatly on the double bed. The pencil skirt went next, her back arching automatically as she unzipped the stiff material and took it off, immediately re-zipping and hanging it. 

Pearl was nowhere near as organized in her undressing, as was proven by the outfit she must’ve worn to work and class, which was strewn across the bed. She would always tease Violet about how meticulous she was when she dressed and undressed, comment that there was nothing Violet was as careful and loving with as her clothes.  _ Except for you, _ Violet would always think to herself, as she shook her head and called Pearl a bitch. 

Her clothes were, generally, expensive, and she treated them as such. But Pearl, Pearl was precious. It was her that Violet needed most to keep like new, undamaged and unmarred by injury or exhaustion or sadness. And despite how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but feel, more often than not, that she was failing. 

Once she’d stripped down to her panties, Violet gathered up Pearl’s clothes, shaking them out and tossing them in the hamper. Then, she padded over to Pearl’s overflowing dresser, looking for something to wear that might help comfort the anxious feeling in her stomach. It was full of soft things, big sweaters and flannels for winter, ripped old t-shirts covered with paint. Even her jeans were soft to the touch, well-worn and faded, and Violet liked to wear them sometimes, even though they were far too loose on her. 

She found what she needed tucked behind a bundle of concert t-shirts. The flannel was rolled up tightly, and Violet shook it out, the corner of her mouth turning up as she saw the single bright yellow smear of paint across the breast pocket, contrasting with the light blue and white plaid. It wasn’t seasonally appropriate, but Violet pulled it on anyway, loving how the fabric felt against her bare chest. 

The shirt wasn’t really meant for painting in, but Pearl had never been very good at bottling up her creativity and saving it for later use. It spilled out of her unexpectedly, resulting in sketches on Violet’s notebooks and miniature abstract paintings done with tiny brush strokes on fabric napkins, and leaving paint and ink stains on her clothing and charcoal dust on the furniture. 

Every time it happened, Violet found herself staring at Pearl’s tiny masterpieces for days afterwards, wondering how it must feel to create so easily, so effortlessly. To make something so beautiful without even realizing it, and then let it go and forget about it entirely, like cherry blossom petals on the wind. 

Violet had never been the best at just letting beautiful things go. She’d only ever known how to push them away with a cold shoulder when she inevitably felt undeserving. She sunk her teeth into them, adored them furiously, and then turned her back before she could get hurt - or do any lasting damage.  

But Pearl kept coming back, kept following as closely as Violet would let her, and Violet had started to think that maybe, Pearl would never let her slip away. 

Pearl had been the first beautiful thing to react not by leaving, but by stepping closer and wrapping her arms around Violet from behind. And somewhere along the way, Violet had suspended her disbelief, stopped pushing, and decided to learn how to love Pearl back, how to make her smile and laugh and stay forever. How to hold onto her, instead of just waiting for her to up and leave. 

Violet headed towards the bathroom, flicking on the light once she was inside and pulling out the wipes to remove her makeup. As she started to rub her face clean, Violet surveyed herself in the mirror.

The shirt looked better on Pearl than on her, the colors complementing her skin and hair and eyes, but Violet had fallen in love with it years ago, and took every opportunity to steal it. Pearl had leant it to her once, when Violet had gotten caught in a cold March thunderstorm on her way to Pearl’s off-campus apartment their junior year. 

Violet smiled as she thought back to that night. Pearl had been so worried when she’d stumbled inside, had wrapped her in a blanket despite her protests and shooed a roommate out of the bathroom so that Violet could use the shower and given her the flannel to wear after. And when she’d emerged from the bathroom, Pearl had been waiting for her with tea and a kiss so warm and sweet that Violet had crawled into her lap for another and forgotten all about the mug sitting on the coffee table. Pearl had kissed her slowly for what seemed like hours, arms draped around her waist or hands playing with her hair, pausing every so often to check that she was alright, or to call her pretty, baby, angel,  _ perfect _ . 

Violet had known she loved Pearl for months and months, then. But by the time they went to sleep that night, she had started to recognize the brand new, delicate, precious feeling of being loved in return.

She looked in the mirror, patted away a tear rolling down her cheek with her makeup wipe, and sniffed quietly, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. 

Once Violet was satisfied there would be no more tears, the wipe went in the trash, and she reached up to take down her hair, pulling out the pins one by one and laying them on the edge of the sink. Her dark hair tumbled down around her shoulders in curls, and she shook it out, running her fingers through the strands in an attempt to improve her appearance. 

The woman staring back at Violet in the mirror wasn’t someone she liked very much - wasn’t the person she’d spent years building herself up to be. Her eyes were hooded, her cheekbones less defined, her hair messy and laying unevenly. But over time, Violet had realized that somehow, this was the version of her that Pearl loved most of all. 

And for Pearl, Violet had to at least try to learn to love her, too.

She stared at herself for a moment longer, trying to identify things in her reflection that might make someone smile so affectionately like Pearl did, and came up empty. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night.

Shaking her head, Violet turned away, giving up and walking back out into the hallway. 

Pearl was standing in front of the stove, humming faintly, her hair piled on top of her head and secured with a hair band. Violet noticed her clothes this time, one of her actual painting outfits - a big white shirt with the collar ripped out and a pair of gray sweats rolled up to her calves. Of course, they could hardly be called just gray and white anymore, with the innumerable splashes and smears of paint all over. 

“Someone’s staring,” Pearl drawled, her hip cocked to one side. “Would you believe, I taste even better than I look?”

Violet smiled, leaning against the doorframe and letting herself just look at her girlfriend for a moment longer. 

“Baby, don’t make me come over there,” Pearl said, shaking her head, a note of playful warning in her tone. 

Her grin widening, Violet shuffled across the tile, draping herself over Pearl’s back and wrapping her arms around her slender waist. Pearl’s neck smelled faintly of vanilla and sandalwood, left over from perfume she’d put on so many hours before, and Violet smiled satisfiedly as she saw the dark hickey she’d left on the skin there the night before. Pressing a kiss to the top of Pearl’s shoulder, Violet rested her chin there, watched Pearl push vegetables around the pan with a spoon.

“I’m almost done,” Pearl informed her, patting her hand. “Hungry?”

Violet shrugged, and nuzzled into the the side of Pearl’s neck, the wisps of blonde hair tickling her nose. 

“You know I can’t see you, right?” 

Suppressing a laugh, Violet shrugged again, and placed a kiss on Pearl’s earlobe, snuggling closer. 

“You’re really making me wanna kiss you right now,” Pearl said, her voice low.

“Then do it,” Violet mumbled. 

“The stove is on.”

“Turn it off.”

“You can wait another minute, Vi.” 

Violet pouted, considering her options. She could wait, of course, but she’d been waiting all day. After a moment, she kissed Pearl’s earlobe again, before taking it between her teeth and tugging gently. Pearl’s breath caught, and Violet pulled back, flicking her tongue against the soft piece of skin lightly.

Pearl made a noise low in her throat, and Violet watched as she turned the stove off and slowly set down the spoon. Her arms covering Violet’s on her waist, she turned her head to the side to look back at Violet, chin tilting up slightly. 

“You little shit,” she said, the corner of her mouth turning up.  

In lieu of responding, Violet craned her neck to press her lips against Pearl’s, first a soft peck and then a real kiss. She could feel Pearl’s smile, even as the other woman’s lips parted to kiss her back, lazy and almost chaste.

It wasn’t long before the sweetness wasn’t enough, and Pearl was twisting in her arms, reaching up to cup Violet’s face with her palms as if to hold her still, licking into her mouth slowly but surely. 

There was something so endlessly comforting about being kissed like this, secure in Pearl’s capable hands, her grip bringing Violet safely down to earth. She could feel her knees weakening as Pearl’s tongue dragged against hers, her grip on Pearl loosening, arms settling in the dip of her waist just above her full hips. 

Caught up in the kiss, she was barely aware of Pearl shifting them around, pushing Violet back firmly against the counter with her lower body, as if she could feel Violet starting to slip. Her thighs were soft, suffocatingly so, and the bones of her hips fit neatly just under Violet’s own, sharp enough to anchor her to the moment as she drifted, dizzy from lack of oxygen. Her hands were smooth and warm on Violet’s face, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on her cheekbones, and her body heat soaked into Violet like sunlight, soothing the tight bundle of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. 

When Pearl finally pulled back to let her breathe again, Violet could only stare at her, lips parted and head swimming. She was sure she looked as empty headed as a pin-up girl, perfect features painted into a permanent state of blissful surprise, lips and cheeks blushed red. 

“There you are,” Pearl murmured, lips curling up in a slow smile, warm gaze traveling over Violet’s face, still framed by her hands, as if she was seeing her for the first time in months. “My pretty baby girl.” 

Violet’s ribs were rapidly growing too tight for the feeling expanding inside them, and she dug her fingers into Pearl’s spine, let herself be consumed by the perfect ache in her chest. 

Pearl’s thumb brushed over the corner of her mouth, and Violet leaned into her touch instinctively. She found herself focusing on the space between Pearl’s septum ring and the bow of her upper lip as she grappled with her emotions, trying to get them under control enough to speak.

“I missed you,” she finally managed to say, her voice weak and raspy. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Not too busy blowing the minds of every editor in the building?” Pearl teased, tucking Violet’s hair behind her ear. 

“Maybe a little,” Violet said, rolling her eyes, a small grin on her face. “But… I just kept thinking about coming home to you.” 

Pearl smiled, finally released Violet’s face and smoothed her hands over her shoulders, tugging gently on the collar of Violet’s shirt. 

“How did you even find this? I haven’t worn it in months.”

“It’s my favorite,” Violet said, shrugging. 

“Aren’t you too hot?”

“I am now.” Violet leaned in to kiss Pearl’s lower lip. “But it’s nice.”

Pearl’s tongue pushed out between her lips, wetting them as she slid her hands down Violet’s chest. Her fingers worked on the top buttons of the shirt, popping them open carefully. 

“How’s that, baby?” Pearl asked quietly, fingertips sweeping lightly across Violet’s collarbone, eyes following her own movements. 

“Better,” Violet whispered, blinking slowly at Pearl as goosebumps rose on her chest.

“I want you on the counter,” Pearl mused. Her hands moved down to rub over Violet’s bare thighs, more a soothing touch than anything else.

“Okay.” 

Folding her hands around Pearl’s, Violet moved them to the backs of her thighs, her eyes drifting shut momentarily at the heat of the touch against her skin. When Violet looked at her again, Pearl was smirking, her fingertips teasing lightly over the crease between Violet’s thighs and ass. 

Violet swallowed thickly, rested her palms on the counter behind her. One of Pearl’s thumbs tucked into the band of Violet’s panties, tugging it down just an inch or so, over her hip. 

The warmth that Pearl’s closeness had flooded her with earlier was starting to burn, and Pearl’s gaze was darkening by the moment, tracing over the bare skin on Violet’s chest and neck. Violet knew that look, blown pupils and focused brow, tongue poking out just slightly past her lower lip, a hint of a blush in her cheeks. The responding twist in her gut made her breath catch, and Pearl’s gaze flicked up to meet hers. 

“What is it, doll?” Pearl was teasing, amusement curled in the corner of her mouth, and Violet dug her fingertips into the countertop. “Did ya want something?”

“Please,” Violet whispered, a small whine escaping her alongside the word. 

“Up.” 

Without hesitation, Violet pushed herself up with her arms, and Pearl’s hands hooked under her thighs, lifting her to sit on the counter. Immediately, she wrapped her legs around Pearl, pulling her in. The surface was cool against her bare skin, a contrast from the heat of Pearl’s palms. 

She rested her hands on Pearl’s shoulders, remembering suddenly as the other woman looked up at her that the counter was always higher than either of them planned for. Pearl stretched up determinedly nonetheless, tugging Violet down by the back of her neck to press their lips together. 

Maintaining the kiss quickly proved to be difficult with their unfortunate angle, and Violet could hear Pearl huff in frustration as she sank back down from her toes and stared straight ahead at Violet’s collarbone dully, her hands now resting on Violet’s thighs. Violet couldn’t help but giggle at the grumpy expression on her girlfriend’s face, and she wrapped her arms around Pearl’s neck to pull her into her chest. 

“You always do this,” Violet said, letting out another laugh as Pearl heaved a sigh.

“You always look so little in my clothes,” Pearl mumbled into her chest. “I forget you’re not.”

“I’m taller than you, bitch.”

“Barely.” Pearl’s tone was dry.

“Just put me on the table instead,” Violet suggested. Pearl grumbled something inaudible, and Violet rolled her eyes affectionately and patted the back of her head. “C’mon, babe. It’ll make you feel better to carry me, you’re so hot when you do that.”

“Stop flattering me,” Pearl insisted halfheartedly. 

“Mmmm… no.” 

Violet released Pearl just enough to press her lips to her forehead, and Pearl looked at her reproachfully. After a brief staring match, Violet tilted Pearl’s chin up with her fingers, and leaned down so that Pearl could kiss her again.

Only a few moments passed before Pearl had clearly regained her confidence, rubbing her palms over the sides of Violet’s legs and pulling Violet closer to the edge of the counter.

“Hold on,” she said under her breath. 

Violet nodded, winding her limbs around Pearl more tightly as her girlfriend lifted her with a soft exhale, fingers digging into Violet’s ass. As Pearl carried her, Violet allowed herself to slide down until she was settled comfortably with her legs hooked around Pearl’s waist, just above her hips. 

As soon as she was seated on the table, warm lips began to wander over her skin, leaving slow, plush kisses on the column of her neck. Pearl’s hands were hot on her hips now, thumbs sliding under her panties, and Violet arched against her instinctively, arms draped around her neck and one palm slipping down her back under her shirt. 

Pearl was tired, soft and almost lazy, and it showed in her gentleness, her easy pace, the way she chuckled when Violet squirmed ever so slightly against her. Violet never knew how to handle her when she was like this, never knew how to make her do what she wanted. There was no goading her, no use in whining, no sense in acting a brat to make her react. When Pearl was like this, she did as she liked, moving slow and steady, amused and heavy handed, every action so clearly full of affection that it made Violet ache and melt like snow at her touch. 

Pearl told Violet that she loved her every day, and Violet had struggled to understand or believe it for the longest time. But when Pearl was like this, it was as if she was showing Violet instead of telling her, with every adoring gesture. And somehow, feeling it always made her give in, surrender to being loved and let herself be safely, utterly wrapped up in sensations, in emotions, in  _ Pearl _ . 

She’d never realized it before they were together - that being touched and held and murmured to could take her apart so beautifully, even, and maybe especially, if it didn’t leave bruises behind after. 

When Pearl finally parted her lips, tongue and teeth dragging over Violet’s throat, Violet let out a low whine. Her head falling back, she pulled Pearl in closer, raking blunt nails over her spine. Pearl sucked on her pulse point, too gentle to leave a lasting mark, and her hand slid between their bodies, fingers pressing flat against the damp satin of Violet’s panties. 

Violet couldn’t help but roll her hips forward, gasping, and Pearl laughed quietly against her skin. Her lips found Violet’s face, soft, smiling kisses on her jaw and chin and cheek, and Violet opened her mouth, an invitation for Pearl to steal all of the air out of her lungs, render her dizzy and hazy again. 

There was a kiss pressed to her lower lip, and then Pearl’s fingers were digging into her pussy through the fabric, the sudden pressure right where she wanted it making her groan. 

“There you go, baby,” Pearl murmured. “You need this, don’t you?”

Violet only nodded, overwhelmed, incapable of expressing just how much she needed everything Pearl had to give her. 

Pearl started to rub her slowly, little circles against Violet’s folds, the satin sticking to her wetness, catching on her clit deliciously. She kissed the corner of Violet’s mouth, and then her lips were on Violet’s again, tongue teasing them apart as Violet moaned into her mouth. 

The touch was firm but gentle, languid and perfect and not enough, and Violet was practically purring despite herself, nails digging into Pearl’s back, leg still hooked around her hip. She needed desperately for everything to speed up, almost caught herself begging, pants of  _ more _ and  _ I need it  _ and  _ god, daddy, please _ on the tip of her tongue. But Pearl’s fingers were so sure, her kiss so hungry, and Violet didn’t want any part in controlling any of it. She wanted Pearl to set the pace, to make every decision, to untangle her bit by bit, leave her weak and warm and comfortably at home in her body. 

Pearl’s spare hand was sliding up the arch of her back, holding their bodies together, soft breasts pressing against Violet’s chest, and Violet swore she could feel Pearl’s hardened nipples through their shirts, dragging against her own. 

Her panties were being nudged to the side, and then Pearl’s fingertips were dipping into her, ever so slightly, teasing at her entrance, and Violet whined quietly and broke the kiss. 

“Look at that,” Pearl said lowly, pressing deeper, making Violet gasp. “Desperate for me already, hmm?”

Violet could only nod, a groan caught in her throat as Pearl’s fingers slowly slid home, parting inside as if to spread her open.

“Perfect,” Pearl exhaled, barely a whisper, and leaned in closer to trace her tongue over Violet’s parted lips. 

The contact deepened into a kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy and punctuated by pauses to gasp in air, and Violet was overheating, almost dizzy as Pearl worked her steadily. When a third finger slid in beside the first two, Violet couldn’t stop herself from wincing, the dull ache making her gush and buck her hips forwards.

“Fuck, Vi,” Pearl rasped. “So filthy wet, aren’t you?”

Groaning, Violet tried to pull her closer, as if the act would make Pearl hurt her more, fuck her faster.

“You’re dripping, doll,” Pearl said, voice low, leaning forwards until her lips brushed against Violet’s ear. “I wanna taste you, get down on my knees, spread you open all pretty and lick into you like icing off a cupcake. Let you coat my lips and chin with that needy pussy.” 

“ _ Please, _ ” Violet whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut and clawing at Pearl’s back.

“I’d ruin my dinner,” Pearl mused, fingers crooking sharply. Violet swore she could hear her smile. 

“Need you,” Violet managed, her voice weak and near breaking. 

“Nah,” Pearl said, leaning back to look at Violet again. Sure enough, a lazy grin was spreading across her face. “Think I’d rather make you come like this, feel you crush my fingers so fucking tight and watch that gorgeous face scrunch up.”

Pearl was still fucking her slow, wrist twisting and fingers curling and spreading inside, and Violet rolled her hips instinctively into every thrust, panting softly. 

“You’re gonna do that for me real soon,” Pearl husked, eyes dark. Her thumb slid up between Violet’s folds, drawing a circle around her clit. “Aren’t you, baby?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Violet gasped, eyes opening wide as Pearl started to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fuck, daddy -”

There was a muttered curse, and then Pearl’s mouth was on hers again, sucking hard on Violet’s lower lip before tugging on it with her teeth. The unexpected flash of pain went right between her legs, and she tried and failed to focus on Pearl’s face, her head falling back as Pearl pressed open mouthed kisses to her neck. She whimpered, barely aware of how pathetic she likely sounded, clutched at Pearl desperately.

“C’mon, I gotcha, give it up,” Pearl coaxed, voice rough, lips brushing over Violet’s skin. “Lemme feel you, babe.”

It was the drag of Pearl’s tongue just beneath her ear that did it, the teeth grazing the corner of her jaw as Pearl’s fingers stuffed her full. Violet clung to her like a lifeline, winding up tighter and tighter and tighter, till she could feel herself shaking, her mouth opening in a silent cry. And then, the pressure subsided, and she was left gasping for air, hips rocking against Pearl to ride out the waves of her climax. 

There was always something so soothing about the moments right after, Violet thought. Pearl solid in her arms, her fingers curling gently inside even when the last aftershocks had passed. The affectionate and often nonsensical things Pearl murmured so sweetly into her hair, as if she’d picked up on Violet’s temporary incoherency, her scattered state of mind. And when Violet came back to herself fully, Pearl was always waiting patiently, seeming content just to stay still and leave soft kisses on the nearest patch of skin, let Violet hold her until her limbs were steady enough to unwind from around Pearl without trembling. 

“You gonna let me go now?” Pearl’s voice was quiet, amused.

“Are you talking to me, or my cunt?” she asked, mumbling into Pearl’s neck. 

“Cute,” Pearl chuckled. “All of the above, but we both know who’s the boss out of the two.” 

“Hey!” Violet protested halfheartedly, smiling, pulling back enough to see Pearl’s face but keeping ahold of her. 

“Really, though,” Pearl said, patting her back. “Just let go for a second, let me sort us out.” 

Heaving a sigh, Violet loosened her grip, allowing Pearl room to slide her fingers out and wincing faintly at the loss. Violet opened her mouth instinctively, heat flooding her all over again in anticipation of Pearl’s fingers pressing between her lips, maybe fucking her there too, just because she could. 

Pearl arched an eyebrow, and then sucked her fingers into her own mouth instead, groaning softly.

“Oh,” Violet said. She pouted, and Pearl rolled her eyes.

“I told you I wanted to taste you, didn’t I?”

“You said it’d spoil your dinner,” Violet reminded her.

“Changed my mind,” Pearl shrugged. 

Violet frowned playfully, pushing at Pearl’s shoulders as if to get her off of her. 

“Aw, don’t be mad, doll,” Pearl cooed. “C’mere, you can taste too.”

She cupped Violet’s jaw and pulled her in for a kiss, deep but unhurried, hints of Violet lingering on her tongue. Violet grabbed for her and ended up with handfuls of her shirt, clutching the fabric loosely in her fists. 

It was over too soon, one last press of Pearl’s lips to Violet’s before she was pulling away, tugging Violet’s wrists so that she’d let go of her shirt. Violet pouted, but released her reluctantly.

“Dinner?” Pearl asked, and Violet nodded, watched her walk back to the stove and turn the heat on once more. “It’ll just be a couple minutes. We really got sidetracked there.”

Violet hummed, smiled affectionately even though Pearl couldn’t see. There was warmth settled deep in her tummy, a faint ache between her thighs, and a pleasant tingling somewhere in the middle that made her want to purr and rock her hips. She sat in it a moment, letting the heat and contentment fill her up until it was a bit too much, and she slid off the table, needing to stand and ground herself again. 

The tile was pleasantly cool on her bare feet, and after a moment, she unbuttoned her shirt the rest of the way, letting it hang open over her bare chest. 

Whatever stress and tension that had remained in her body were long gone now, the anxieties of living up to the pressure at work fading into the background as she reaccustomed herself to the comfortable feeling of sharing space with her very favorite person. 

Pearl always looked so lovely in their kitchen, so domestic and content, suited by her surroundings. It was probably the nicest room in the apartment, had been done well by the previous owners, with white marble countertops that they’d never have been able to afford on their own. The single window was in a perfect place, in the opposite wall from the corner where the table was positioned, and from this angle, it was directly behind Pearl, framing her in the colors of the twilight sky. 

The cabinets were painted a soft lavender, something they’d done themselves, and there were photographs taped to some of them, and sketches and watercolors that Pearl had done on paper taped to others. 

The one directly above the stove was an exception - Pearl had put up a few pages from Violet’s old college sketchpad, with concept art for clothing designs and practice drawings of female models. They reminded her of Violet, she’d said, of the things that she loved about Violet. She’d smiled up at them fondly, and left it at that, and Violet was still utterly baffled. 

There were a lot of things about Pearl and how she behaved that Violet couldn’t quite wrap her head around, especially when it came to how she treated Violet. She’d asked why, why Pearl stayed and why she always waited and why she seemed perfectly content to construct her life around what Violet needed from her, prioritize her over and over again even when Violet knew she didn’t deserve it. But Pearl always gave the simplest answers, as if the choices were obvious, as if walking away wasn’t even an option. And after awhile, Violet had stopped questioning it, accepted that maybe she’d never understand and that she was selfish enough to let Pearl keep doing it anyway, just so she’d be able to keep Pearl for as long as possible.

“What were you working on today, love?” Violet asked, more just to hear Pearl’s voice than anything else.

“Charcoal sketches from memory,” Pearl said, and then sighed. “Realism.”

“Ah.” Violet smiled. “No distortion, then.”

“No surrealism, no distortion, no stylizing,” Pearl confirmed, rolling her eyes. “Boring. And also, hard.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“Yeah, at least it’s charcoal,” Pearl shrugged. “I tried just sketching you, but I can’t do you justice in realism.”

“No?”

“No,” Pearl said. “You’re too… indescribable, for that. And putting you in two dimensions with no color reduces you to something so much less than what you are.”

Violet stared at her for a moment, wondering how on earth she was meant to reply to something like that and deciding that there wasn’t any response good enough.

“Can I see what you’ve got so far?” she asked instead.

“Sure,” Pearl said. “It’s all on the table right behind you, babe.”

“Oh.” 

Feeling a bit stupid, Violet turned around. The chair where Pearl must’ve been sitting, on the opposite side of the table, was still pulled out, and there were two open sketchbooks in front of it. Violet rounded the table, pushed in the chair, and picked up the larger of the two. The drawing was of a street sign, 64th and 5th, with the skeletal outlines of a tree in winter just behind. It wasn’t fully shaded, and Pearl clearly hadn’t had a chance to finish it yet, but it was still very nearly perfect. 

“That was probably my fourth attempt at a subject,” Pearl commented. She was turning off the stove, and taking bowls down from the cupboard above her. “The others weren’t working.”

Curious, Violet flipped back, finding a page with the beginnings of a sketch of a woman’s back, arms raised so her shoulder blades pulled in. The page before was another sketch of a woman, this time of dark hair tucked behind an ear, a sharp cheekbone and precise jawline. They were beautiful, and Violet realized quickly that they were both of her. She couldn’t find a problem with either, and her throat was dry as she brushed her fingers lightly over the shape of her own earlobe on the paper.

“I like them,” Violet said quietly. 

“You’re biased,” Pearl replied, a faint smile on her lips. “Thank you, though.”

Pearl was holding the bowls, and Violet set down the sketchbook carefully, knowing arguing with her on this was pointless. 

“I thought we could eat on the couch?” Pearl half questioned.

Violet hesitated for a moment, her first instinct being to protect the furniture. Pearl had a knowing look in her eye, as if she was almost expecting Violet to scold her for the thought, and had a calm response waiting to persuade her otherwise. 

“We can eat on the couch,” Violet said, huffing out a laugh at Pearl’s responding smile.

It had been too long a day to sit across a table from Pearl, and the thought of not being near her wasn’t even something Violet was willing to consider. She could curl up next to Pearl on the couch, rest her knees against Pearl’s thighs and press nice and close. If she could get near enough, and stay there, she had a shot at maybe not overthinking and worrying, at just letting herself be.  

She followed Pearl to the living room, shivering a little and holding her flannel closed as she entered the airier space. Before Pearl could toss herself onto the couch, Violet grabbed the bowls, holding them steady and glaring at Pearl with mock disapproval. Pearl sighed, and sat down, holding out her hands. Violet gave them back, and then bent down to scoop up the pillows that had fallen onto the floor, likely when Pearl had returned home and napped there for a half hour like she usually did. 

She set them in the corners of the couch neatly, and then settled herself down next to Pearl with her feet tucked underneath her. Pearl was smiling at her, half lidded and amused.

“What?” she demanded, taking her bowl.

“You’re just adorable,” Pearl informed her, shaking her head a little and leaning in to press a quick kiss to Violet’s lips. 

“So are you,” Violet said, rolling her eyes and suppressing a smile. “But you know what’s not adorable? Your love of dropping things on the floor and then leaving them there.”

“Sorry, baby.” Pearl hooked her hand under Violet’s knees, and pulled them onto her lap to get her closer. “I don’t mean to.” 

“I know,” Violet said, leaning against her. 

“You should eat, I know it’s been hours since your lunch break.”

This time, Violet didn’t try to hold back her smile, but she did hide it by starting to eat like Pearl had suggested.

Pearl’s thoughtfulness always made something inside her unfurl, grow just a little bit softer. There had been evidence of it since ever they began seeing each other, starting out with Pearl just checking in by text, making sure that Violet hadn’t kept herself awake fretting about exams. Even though it’d gotten more noticeable once they had grown more comfortable together, it was never a nervous sort of worrying, like Violet always found herself caught up in - it was more of a gentle, patient caring, shown through actions and questions rather than quiet breakdowns or words spilling out messily in a stream of insecurity. 

They ate in comfortable silence, mutually tired of talking and engaging. Words felt unnecessary anyway, as they often did with Pearl nowadays. 

It was unexpected, Violet thought, how sometimes, having nothing to say could feel so sweet. Something told her that Pearl had always known, and had just been waiting for her to catch up. 

The dishes were set on a side table when they were done, and Violet curled into Pearl’s side, making herself small enough to fit under her girlfriend’s arm. 

After a little while, Pearl’s fingers ran through her hair, and she kissed Violet’s forehead, murmured something Violet couldn’t quite catch. 

“Hm?”

“I love you in my clothes,” Pearl repeated, louder this time. 

“I thought you loved me all the time,” Violet replied, a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. 

“Shut up,” Pearl said halfheartedly. “Let me say cute things without sassing me, would you?”

Violet could hear her grin, and wanted to see it, too.   

Straddling Pearl was the easiest thing in the world, like it always had been. Her hands fit surely on Violet’s waist, sliding inside her open shirt and resting above her hips, and when she looked up at Violet, she smiled so quietly, so beautifully, eyes squinting just a little, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Her full lips were parted slightly, chin begging to be tilted up for a kiss, and Violet didn’t bother to resist, doing just that and smiling just a little as Pearl sighed against her. 

There wasn’t much heat left in Pearl’s kiss, just a slow, sleepy warmth, and it was almost too easy to hold her in place and take control. Violet tucked her free hand under Pearl’s shirt, sliding it up over her stomach to cup one of her tits, thumb over the nipple, feel Pearl shiver beneath her. 

Pearl was so very tired, and Violet could feel it, could feel how she was struggling to stay present. It was selfish, then, how needy Violet felt, how starved she was still for contact. How it seemed that she could never get Pearl close enough, kiss her long enough, love her deep enough. 

Violet couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t bring herself to let Pearl go for another impossibly long day just yet. They’d had a good bit of time together, and yet it wasn’t near enough, the wistful ache of missing her already starting make a home again in Violet’s chest.  

It was selfish, but that was how Violet had always loved her. Grasping hands, needy kisses, pulling at her clothing and pressing closer and closer and as close as Pearl would let her. Quiet tears in the middle of the night at the thought of ever losing her. 

Selfish, and sometimes hating herself for it, but too in love to care. 

She took advantage of Pearl’s softness, pressed her back against the couch and explored her mouth like she’d never have the chance again. She tried to cover Pearl’s heavy tits with her hands, sighed at the weight in her palms, felt the saliva pooling under her tongue as Pearl’s nipples went stiff. She needed them in her mouth, between her teeth, to taste Pearl’s skin and feel her shudder. 

“Lay back for me?” Violet murmured the request. “Please, Pearl.” 

“Sure,” Pearl said, half smiling lazily and turning to reposition them on the couch before starting to settle back against the cushions. “You gonna take care of me, baby?”

Violet reached for a pillow beside them, tucking it behind Pearl’s head and shoulders and pushing her down the rest of the way gently. She dropped a another gentle kiss on Pearl’s lips, and slid her hands under Pearl’s shirt to push it up, leave it rolled above Pearl’s tits. There were fading bruises left still from the last time Violet had had her like this, the marks on her breasts and stomach that had been so deep and angry after Violet had bitten into her now faint and purple. 

“Uh huh.” Violet traced her tongue over her teeth, her jaw tightening. Pearl’s jeweled belly button piercing caught the warm light from the lamp, and Violet brushed her thumb over it. “Gonna take care of you so good.” 

Violet nosed at the underside of Pearl’s breast, dragged her tongue up from there until she reached the dark, dusky pink nipple, lapping over the stiff peak. Pearl hummed, and her hands slid through Violet’s hair, pulling it away from her face. 

“I still want you to get these pierced,” Violet murmured. “It’d be so hot.”

“You know I’d love to, but you could never leave my tits alone for long enough,” Pearl said, her tone amused. “I doubt you could go a week without biting, baby. Much less a few weeks without even touching.” 

Violet rolled her eyes and sucked Pearl’s nipple into her mouth, hard, to make her girlfriend catch her breath. Pearl was right, of course. But Pearl loved having her tits bitten and played with as much as Violet loved doing it, and realistically, neither of them would be able to resist for very long.

Bruises would have to be decoration enough, at least for now.

She dug her teeth harshly into Pearl’s nipple, felt Pearl’s hips rise just a little in response and smiled at her gasp. That was one of the things that had surprised Violet, once they’d started pushing each other’s limits - the fact that even with all her dominance, Pearl liked pain just as much as she did, and maybe even more. She loved to be scratched and bitten and bruised, aching by the time they finished, evidence of Violet’s claim on her visible for days after. 

Violet picked the underside of her breast to focus on next, nipping first at the skin and then biting, sucking harder and harder until Pearl’s fingers twisted tight in her hair. When she finally pulled back, Pearl groaned low in her throat, and Violet glanced up to see her girlfriend looking down at her with dark eyes, tongue running over her lower lip. 

Cupping Pearl’s other breast, Violet pinched at the nipple, twisted it to hear her breathing grow heavier. A faint smile hidden in the corner of her mouth, Violet admired a fading bruise just above the nipple she was bullying, placed carefully in a spot that would be easily visible. Pearl had shown it off the weekend before, just to tease Violet, tits pushed up and neckline low, one arm around Violet’s waist as they’d taken the subway to Chelsea to walk the High Line in broad daylight. 

Violet dug her teeth into the mark slowly, wanting to leave it darker and more tender than she had the first time. 

She pictured Pearl sitting in class tomorrow, pressing at it with her thumb absentmindedly through her shirt, eyes unfocused, biting her lower lip. Maybe she’d dig in harder, hiss quietly, shift her hips on the chair. Pass the period thinking of how she’d handle Violet when both of them were home, treat her roughly and leave her aching with reminders just the same. 

It was only when Pearl winced and arched that Violet released her, running her tongue over the darkening mark, her smile widening as Pearl twisted just a little under her and exhaled thickly.

“Again.” 

Pearl wasn’t asking, and Violet knew that. The command pressed in around her, any sense of control evaporating, and Pearl tugged her closer, chest rising as she took in a shaky breath. 

With a whispered curse, Violet did as she was told, let herself be pulled in and guided to where Pearl wanted her next. By the time Pearl started pushing her head down, there were two more fresh bruises blooming on her tits, and her hips were rolling up steadily into Violet’s. 

Violet left kisses on Pearl’s stomach and her abs, pausing and resisting Pearl’s constant pushing at her head to bite into the soft flesh below her bellybutton. She teased the piercing with her index finger as she sucked, and Pearl groaned and twisted Violet’s hair in her fists. 

She could hear Pearl’s heavy breathing as she made her way down further, kissing down Pearl’s faint happy trail to the waistband of her sweatpants. The elastic sat right beneath her hip bones, and Violet hooked her fingers in, dragged it down further, expecting to see the hem of her panties and finding none.

“Oh,” she murmured. “Baby…”

“Hmm?” Pearl hummed, and Violet looked up at her. 

Pearl still seemed relaxed at first glance, laid back comfortably against the pillows, but the slight heaving of her chest, the marks on her torso, and the dark look in her eyes betrayed how aroused and impatient she really was. 

“You must be making a mess of these,” Violet said, voice low and soft, rubbing her thumb over the fabric of Pearl’s pants. “I can smell how wet you are.”

“Then maybe you should do something about it.” Pearl spoke slowly, evenly, but as she tugged at Violet’s hair and stared down at her, there was no mistaking the threat in her voice.

“Maybe,” Violet agreed, the corner of her mouth turning up. 

She tilted her head to the side, pressed the tip of her thumb decisively into the cleft of Pearl’s pussy, just barely touching where she was most sensitive. The response was instant, Pearl’s hips bucking upwards, a suppressed moan trapped in the back of her throat. 

Violet slid her thumb a hair lower, pressing harder, and Pearl almost whined her name, losing control just for a moment as her chin tilted back. Violet smiled smugly, feeling unreasonably pleased with herself. 

Pearl released her hair as Violet rolled to the side, tapping Pearl’s thigh to make her lift her hips and pulling down her pants. They fell to the ground, and she ignored the impulse to pick them up, settling herself back on her stomach as Pearl’s legs opened to accommodate her. 

The sight of her from this angle always made Violet’s mouth water, her full tits from below, her belly button piercing and the slight softness of her stomach, her creamy thighs, the dizzying intensity of her gaze. The rosy flush to her core, her pussy spread open by her own index and middle finger, shiny wetness pooling at her entrance. 

There was a series of sketches Pearl had done once, equating little pieces of female bodies to natural things, all a little book they still kept by the bed. They were stylized and only loosely realistic, how Pearl liked best, and each was different - a throat with the chin upturned drawn as a river valley, freckles on a torso connected as constellations, a set of breasts as the sun and moon. Violet’s favorite, though, was a small one of a vulva as a flower, surreal yet still recognizable, drawn in exquisite detail. 

She’d asked almost shyly if it was hers, and Pearl had laughed, wrapped an arm around her and told her that she was the model for everything in the book, as if it was obvious. The idea had pleased Violet then, and it still did, but as she replaced Pearl’s two fingers with her own, she couldn’t get rid of the notion that her favorite sketch was a self portrait. Pearl opened up like flower petals as Violet touched her gently, and she needed desperately to move closer, breathe her in. 

It was almost a surprise, how Pearl waited for her, let her take her time. There was still urgency in the trembling of her thighs, in her soft panting, but she seemed content to let Violet stare, at least for a little while. 

When she finally leaned forwards, teased her tongue up slowly between her fingers, Pearl’s hands wrapped themselves in her hair once more, tugging her in. 

Violet settled into it comfortably, long, slow licks to make Pearl shudder, a hand kneading one of Pearl’s sensitive tits as Pearl’s thighs hugged her head gently, tensing every now and then. 

Normally Pearl would be talking to her, encouraging her or at least telling her what to do occasionally, but she was quiet except for her sighs and low groans, seeming too worn out to do much more than pull at Violet’s hair. And of course she was, she’d been up for so long, had done so much and waited so long. Her chest filling with the need to care for Pearl, Violet resolved to stop teasing and give her what she needed, push her over the edge without making her wait too long. 

Knowing it wouldn’t take much, she focused in on Pearl’s clit so that Pearl would fuck back against her tongue, the two of them setting the pace together, both knowing exactly what she needed to come undone. Violet chased every reaction, twisting Pearl’s nipple between her fingers to make her moan and roll her hips faster. 

It wasn’t too long before Pearl’s back arched, and Violet pinched her nipple harder to keep ahold of it. She just barely caught Pearl’s gorgeous, raspy groan before Pearl’s thighs closed in tighter on either side of her head, muffling the sound. 

The taste of Pearl’s orgasm was addicting as ever, the bucking of her hips and the groans that Violet could barely hear, the pulsing of her cunt under Violet’s tongue and the roughness of her hands in Violet’s hair. Pearl lost control of her body, and through that, she took back control of Violet, and it was every kind of intoxicating, and Violet was dizzy and melting into the cushions beneath her. 

Pearl rode out her aftershocks with her fingers still twisted in Violet’s hair, hips rocking against the contact. As her grip relaxed, her motions slowing, Violet continued to lap softly at her, letting out a faint moan as Pearl coated her tongue. 

There was a gentle tug of her hair, and Violet looked up to see Pearl staring down at her fondly, a wide, sleepy smile on her face. 

“You done, babe?” Pearl teased, her voice husky and sweet all at once. 

“Mmmm…” Violet hummed, drawing another long lick up the length of Pearl’s pussy. 

“Think I’m a little tired to go again,” Pearl said with a sigh. “Even though I want to.”

“I know,” Violet replied, rubbing Pearl’s thighs soothingly. “I know. Just let me clean you up, yeah?”

“Okay,” Pearl said agreeably, her eyelids lowering as she watched Violet. 

When Pearl tugged her hair again, hissed a little at the contact, Violet moved Pearl’s thighs apart gently, pushed herself up on her arms and crawled up Pearl’s body to collapse against her side, draped halfway on top of her. Pearl’s arm wrapped around her, and she kissed Violet’s forehead, once, twice, pulled her close. 

“Love you,” Pearl mumbled. 

“You shouldn’t fall asleep here,” Violet replied, laying her arm under Pearl’s breasts and teasing fingertips up the side of her ribs. 

“Nice to know you feel the same way,” Pearl chuckled.

“Really, baby.”

“I’m not sleeping.” 

Pearl’s eyes were drifting shut, her breathing already slow and relaxed, and Violet smiled, shook her head just a little.

Violet wasn’t tired yet, but she felt content, her bones heavy in a pleasant way, grounded in the moment. Everything felt so familiar, and  Violet swore she’d lived it before, maybe more than once, a common feeling now that she and Pearl had their own space safe from the rest of the world, their own routine. Now that they came back to a place they could call home, to each other. And it wasn’t scary, like Violet had always imagined it’d be, wasn’t a trap or a sinkhole or a dulling of colors that turned the world black and white and lifeless. 

It was comforting, and that was what surprised Violet the most. 

“I love you too,” she whispered, unsure if Pearl was even still awake to hear.

But Pearl nodded, and her lips spread into that wide, dumb smile that Violet loved so much. 

“I’m gonna marry you, y’know,” Pearl said, a soft murmur that Violet almost didn’t hear. 

Violet’s breath caught just a little, and she thought she would’ve been frozen and utterly immobile, if it weren’t for Pearl’s warmth so very close.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh.” Pearl sounded sleepy and sure, and so pleased with herself, and Violet’s stomach was full of snowflakes, beautiful and fluttering and sending shivers down to the tips of her toes. “Just as soon as I can buy you a ring pretty enough to look right on your finger.” 

Swallowing, Violet stared at Pearl, held on just a little tighter. 

“‘S that okay?” Pearl asked, eyes cracked open just a little now, rubbing her back slowly.

“Yeah,” Violet nodded, not hesitating with her reply. “Yeah, it is.”

Pearl hummed contently, letting out a long exhale, and Violet stayed still, neck craned just a little to watch her as her breathing deepened. 

Her features were soft, as if she hadn’t a care in the world, brow unfurrowed and perfect pouty lips parted slightly. She was everything Violet had never dreamed she’d find, much less keep, and the feeling in Violet’s chest was inexplicable, the tug and the ache, the fullness that threatened to snap her ribs like piano strings.

Pearl deserved to sleep for a bit, Violet thought. She would walk her to the shower after a catnap and leave her there with a kiss and a pinch to her hip to wake her up, and then she’d go back to the kitchen, do the dishes and straighten up the little bits of mess that tended to follow Pearl wherever she went. After everything was in its place, she would curl up under the covers and wait for Pearl slide into bed behind her, envelop her in her arms. 

She would buy the ring, she decided. Pearl didn’t know it yet, but as soon as she had a real salary, she’d buy the ring. 

She’d do something horribly romantic, something to render Pearl speechless, and she’d get down on one knee, and Pearl’s smile would make her heart skip beats like stupid love songs and romance novels always talked about. 

Or maybe, she’d propose in their apartment to really surprise Pearl, hide the box in the couch and ask her as they lay just like this. And Pearl would kiss her so sweet, smile pressed against her lips. 

But for now, in this safe, quiet moment, everything felt just as it should be. There was no rush, no ticking clock, no more waiting for Pearl to give up and walk away, nothing that made her want to run and everything that made her want,  _ need _ to stay.

So she’d let Pearl sleep for a little while, and just watch, content with the unspoken promise that she’d get to keep her forever. 


End file.
